


In Secret Places

by eleret



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleret/pseuds/eleret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick encounter in a hallway, through the eyes of a third person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Secret Places

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a (now deleted) contrelamontre.dreamwidth.org challenge in 2009. The challenge was UST.

It’s chance, the first time she notices. It could have been any other day; the Enterprise was on a routine mission, and she was relaxed enough to glance around the cabin. Her gaze passed over Chekov just as McCoy was passing him. She had never seen anyone tense quite so quickly as the two of them did when McCoy’s sleeve brushed Chekov’s shoulder. 

And then McCoy kept walking, and they both remained tense, and though McCoy did not look at Chekov once, Chekov’s gaze followed McCoy all the way across the room. 

***  
She might not have thought anything of it. In fact, she might have forgotten it completely had Chekov not left behind his gun at his station when he went to bed. She hurried after him, about the call out to get his attention, when she rounded the corner and found him about the pass McCoy, walking in the other direction. Something made her remain quiet and fall back into the shadow of the corner. She watched as Chekov glanced up at McCoy, almost defiantly. 

She was shocked by the gaze of desperation mixed with pain on McCoy’s face. The moment dragged on as they stared at each other. They weren’t touching, but McCoy gazed at Chekov with such intensity it seemed to Uhura that it had to burn. Chekov gazed steadily at McCoy’s face while the doctor seemed to draw a line down the other’s body. When McCoy reached Chekov’s face again, the moment suddenly snapped, like a piece of plastic drawn too thin, and the two men slammed together, so suddenly Uhura jumped a bit. 

McCoy pressed Chekov into the wall. He grabbed Chekov’s hip with one hand, and his head with the other. It should have been a soft, loving gesture, cushioning the young man’s head from bruising, but he if it was meant that way, the ferocity in the kiss which followed it erased the sentiment completely. They were completely silent – Chekov opened his mouth under McCoy’s with not so much as a moan. All she could hear was their breathing, and her own, and the soft slip of tongue on tongue. They were so fiercely joined it seemed they almost became one being. 

She had never imagined Chekov kissing anyone – much less _McCoy_ , much less with such intensity. Their eyes were tightly shut, and then, as McCoy bit his lower lip, Chekov did moan, choked off and soft. The sound, quiet as it was, startled McCoy. He pulled back. They stood like that, still wrapped together, McCoy’s hand on Chekov’s jaw, Chekov’s arms wrapped around McCoy’s shoulders, staring at each other for another long, agonizing moment. Uhura held her breath, although their heavy breathing would have covered hers. 

McCoy’s glance rested on Chekov’s then darted down to his lips, then back to Chekov’s eyes. He swallowed, and stepped back, releasing Chekov, shaking off Chekov’s grip. Their gazes remained locked. Uhura knew she shouldn’t be here – she should have left immediately. Hell, she should have told someone. Overlooking the fraternization rules (because really, who was she kidding), Chekov was just _so young_. But she couldn’t look away from them. McCoy’s face was grimly determined and Chekov’s was broken and twisted – he looked like maybe he was holding back tears. 

“ _Please_ ,” he said, his voice so quiet she almost couldn’t hear it. 

McCoy shook his head, squared his shoulders, and seemed to suddenly change. She didn’t know how, quite, but although he didn’t move back again, he seemed suddenly distanced, removed completely from the situation. He locked his eyes on a spot a little to the right of Chekov’s head. 

“I can’t,” he said. “I’m sor – I just can’t.” He ran a hand through his hair, glanced briefly back at Chekov, and seemed unable to drag his eyes from the young man’s mouth. “I...you should get straightened up,” he said firmly, and then, having made his decision, he left, striding down the hallway back to the medical bay. 

Uhura watched as Chekov stood there, watched his expression change ever so slowly from anguish to despair to a closed-off resolve. When she left, he was still standing there, staring at the opposite wall of the hallway, his face blank.


End file.
